in the Dog-days-- And if these be her
daily Divertisements, what are those of the Night? to lie in a wide
Moth-eaten Bed-Chamber with Furniture in Fashion in the Reign of King
_Sancho_ the First; the Bed that which his Forefathers liv'd and dy'd
in.

_Pedro._ Very well.

_Hell._ This Apartment (new furbisht and fitted out for the young Wife)
he (out of Freedom) makes his Dressing-room; and being a frugal and a
jealous Coxcomb, instead of a Valet to uncase his feeble Carcase, he
desires you to do that Office-- Signs of Favour, I'll assure you, and
such as you must not hope for, unless your Woman be out of the way.

_Pedro._ Have you done yet?

_Hell._ That Honour being past, the Giant stretches it self, yawns and
sighs a Belch or two as loud as a Musket, throws himself into Bed, and
expects you in his foul Sheets, and e'er you can get your self undrest,
calls you with a Snore or two-- And are not these fine Blessings to a
young Lady?

_Pedro._ Have you done yet?

_Hell._ And this man you must kiss, nay, you must kiss none but him
too-- and nuzle thro his Beard to find his Lips-- and this you must
submit to for threescore Years, and all for a Jointure.

_Pedro._ For all your Character of Don _Vincentio_, she is as like to
marry him as she was before.

_Hell._ Marry Don _Vincentio_! hang me, such a Wedlock would be worse
than Adultery with another Man: I had rather see her in the _Hostel de
Dieu_, to waste her Youth there in Vows, and be a Handmaid to Lazers and
Cripples, than to lose it in such a Marriage.

_Pedro._ You have consider'd, Sister, that _Belvile_ has no Fortune to
bring you to, is banisht his Country, despis'd at home, and pity'd
abroad.

_Hell._ What then? the Vice-Roy's Son is better than that Old Sir Fisty.
Don _Vincentio_! Don _Indian_! he thinks he's trading to _Gambo_ still,
and wou'd barter himself (that Bell and Bawble) for your Youth and
Fortune.

_Pedro._ _Callis_, take her hence, and lock her up all this Carnival,
and at Lent she shall begin her everlasting Penance in a Monastery.

_Hell._ I care not, I had rather be a Nun, than be oblig'd to marry as
you wou'd have me, if I were design'd for't.

_Pedro._ Do not fear the Blessing of that Choice-- you shall be a Nun.

_Hell._ Shall I so? you may chance to be mistaken in my way of
Devotion-- A Nun! yes I am like to make a fine Nun! I have an excellent
Humour for a Grate: No, I'll have a Saint of my own to pray to shortly,
if I like